I Only Have Eyes for You
by haetorigumo
Summary: AU. Something strange has been going on at Alfred's school. After witnessing it firsthand, Alfred decides to prove that the school is haunted by two ghosts reliving their tragedy from decades past. USUK/UKUS


Summary: Something strange has been going on at Alfred's school. After witnessing it firsthand, Alfred decides to prove that the school is haunted by two ghosts reliving their tragedy from decades past. Based off of the _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ episode of the same title.

A/N: Begins from Alfred's POV, and then switches to Arthur's for the rest.

* * *

><p>Alfred breathed out a long sigh.<p>

"So bored," he said to himself, tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he walked down the hallway. His day had been going like any other day, only perhaps more boring than usual. He had decided to ditch out of his history class for awhile, using the bathroom as an excuse so he could wander around the halls. He didn't really have a reason for doing so—he just hated having to sit all day. Well, that wasn't true. When it involved video games or movies or something like that, he was perfectly fine with it. But it was school, and school was of course different.

Deciding he was thirsty, Alfred stopped to get some water from a nearby drinking fountain, and was debating whether or not to get a soda from the vending machine when his thoughts were interrupted by raised voices coming from around the corner of the hallway. Curious to know what they were arguing about, Alfred moved closer to where the voices were coming from.

"You don't care about me anymore, is that it?"

The voice sounded familiar, and as Alfred turned the corner, he saw who it was, along with another student he recognized. They were the only students in sight, both standing by the stairs in the empty hallway. Alfred could only stare at them in disbelief as they continued.

"It's not because I don't care!" Elizaveta shouted back.

"Then say you don't love me! Say it!" Gilbert demanded. His hands were on her shoulders and he shook her harshly.

"Fine, will that make it easier?" Elizaveta replied, glaring up at him. "I don't. I don't love you. Now let me go!" She struggled in his grasp.

_What the hell was going on? _Sure, Alfred had seen them argue before—the two never really seemed to get along with one another. But they had never argued over anything like this. He hadn't even known they were in a relationship. Gilbert with Elizaveta, really? He couldn't believe it. Gilbert had always talked about being single like it was something to boast about, and Elizaveta was supposedly dating some Austrian guy, so had they been hiding this from everyone all along? The whole thing seemed off to him.

Alfred realized then how close Elizaveta was to the staircase. From where she was, she could accidentally (or purposely) get pushed down the stairwell, and Alfred was sure falling from that distance would not be a fun thing for anyone to experience. Without further thought, Alfred rushed over to where they were in the middle of the hallway. Whatever was going on between them, he would make sure to end it before anything bad could happen.

"No! It doesn't make any sense!" Gilbert yelled as Alfred ran towards them. Alfred did not hesitate once he reached Gilbert, and pulled at his shoulder, trying to get Gilbert's attention away from Elizaveta.

"Hey, enough, guys!" Alfred said, raising his voice to get their attention, but for all he knew they hadn't even heard him. Gilbert shrugged Alfred's hand off, but otherwise took no notice of him. Realizing he would have to use force to stop Gilbert, Alfred grabbed him again, this time prying him fully away from Elizaveta.

"Love should be forever!" Gilbert shouted to Elizaveta, _pleaded_, his attention still not on Alfred despite being pulled away.

"I'm serious, man, just calm down!" Alfred tried again.

Instead, Gilbert finally took notice of Alfred and began to struggle against him, stomping forcefully on Alfred's foot.

"Ow! Just—stop already!" Alfred tightened his hold on Gilbert while trying to avoid getting stomped on again. Alfred was stronger than him, but Gilbert was putting up enough of a fight that Alfred had to focus all of his attention on restraining him.

"What's going on here?" A voice cut through the hallway.

Alfred turned his head towards the new voice—another that he recognized—and saw Arthur staring at them curiously, his brow furrowed in confusion. He was towards the end of the hallway where Alfred had come from, a small distance away from them.

Arthur glanced over to Elizaveta, who was by the stairs looking warily at Gilbert, before he returned his gaze to Alfred and Gilbert's struggling, waiting for someone to respond.

Alfred had to admit that he was relieved at Arthur's presence. Finally, someone was here to help with this… whatever this was.

"I have no idea," Alfred replied after a moment, straining to keep Gilbert still. "I just saw them arguing and thought I should stop them since they were so close to the stairs." He nodded his head towards the staircase. Gilbert was still struggling in his hold, and Alfred had barely tilted his head away in time to avoid a punch to his face. "Hey, um, can you help me out here?" Alfred asked as Arthur simply continued to stare.

The question seemed to jolt Arthur from his thoughts. "Oh—right," he said, flushing slightly from embarrassment. "Of course."

Arthur moved to lend Alfred a hand, but it wasn't necessary. Gilbert was suddenly calm, his body now relaxed in Alfred's grip. Alfred loosened his hold on him, but didn't trust Gilbert's abrupt calmness enough to let his guard down completely.

"You alright now?" Alfred asked, still cautious. Gilbert didn't answer him but stared towards the ground, appearing strangely distant.

"She'll never be able to love me again." Gilbert spoke in almost a whisper, as if he had said it to himself, and for no one else to hear. Then Gilbert swayed, seeming about to collapse—causing Alfred to tighten his hold again—but then caught his footing at the last moment. Alfred let go of him and stepped back.

Gilbert's head lifted up and looked around him, the confusion in his eyes steadily growing. "What am I doing here?" he asked, all of the earlier emotion in his voice gone.

Alfred didn't respond, but continued to stare at Gilbert, unable to pull his eyes away from him.

Alfred _couldn't _pull his eyes away, because Alfred had just seen a ghost.

There wasn't any other way to describe it. Alfred had just seen something leave Gilbert's body—something translucent and barely even visible under the fluorescent lighting, but definitely there. Yes, Alfred convinced himself, it had definitely been a ghost. He stood frozen, face pale, unable to believe that he had just witnessed something that should not exist outside of horror movies or bad paranormal TV shows.

Gilbert gave Alfred a weird look and turned to Arthur for an answer, but he had no luck there either. Arthur's face had paled like Alfred's, and he seemed just as unresponsive at the moment.

"Uh, are you guys deaf?" Gilbert said, growing irritated when Elizaveta didn't respond either.

Alfred managed to blink a few times, then seemed to recover somewhat. "You were—" Alfred's voice faltered, and he cleared his throat and tried again. He could not let on that he had been scared by a ghost. "You were just arguing with Elizaveta and nearly pushed her down the stairwell."

"What?" Gilbert glanced at Elizaveta. "Yeah right, I don't remember doing that."

"Well, it looked like you were going to," Alfred said. He paused, then added, "I didn't know you were going out with her."

"What?" A look of horror crossed Gilbert's face. "We're not dating! You're fucking sick to think that."

"From what I just saw, it sure looked like you were," Alfred told him. Gilbert's face was turning red, but Alfred couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Probably the former—Alfred couldn't remember having ever seen him embarrassed before.

"If you weren't arguing about that, then what were you two arguing about?" Arthur cut in, finally recovering from his own apparent shock. Arthur seemed tense, but his voice didn't waver. He shifted his gaze—green eyes flickering momentarily to Alfred, before settling back on Gilbert.

"We weren't arguing!" Gilbert retorted, clearly becoming exasperated with their accusations.

"But I just saw you!" Alfred countered.

"Um, guys…" Elizaveta finally spoke up. She was holding her hand to her head as if she had a bad headache. "I don't remember arguing with him, either."

"You don't?" Alfred asked, taken aback by her statement. True, he had been paying more attention to Gilbert when he saw the ghost, so he hadn't noticed whether or not Elizaveta had also been affected.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I was just walking back to class and the next thing I knew I was here." She let her hand fall from her forehead. "What—what just happened?"

They all stared at one another, but no one seemed able to come up with a good answer.

"…We're not really sure."

Something weird was definitely going on here, Alfred thought. He had just seen something that he didn't want to believe existed—something that had secretly frightened him since his childhood—possess a student at school. From the looks of it, _two_students had been possessed. And from how Arthur had reacted, he was sure that Arthur had seen it, too.

* * *

><p>During lunch, Alfred found himself in the library at one of the school computers. After some research online through old newspaper archives, he discovered an article that fit strangely well with what he had witnessed earlier. According to the article, a teacher named Ellen Summers had been murdered at the high school almost fifty years ago. She had been having an affair with a student named James (notes and love letters from James were discovered in the teacher's desk after her death), but when she tried to break it off one night, things did not go well and resulted in James pushing her down the stairwell. The fall was fatal, and when he realized what he had done, James had hung himself soon afterwards at the school. The article was dated almost fifty years ago exact.<p>

Alfred felt a shiver go down his spine, sensing goosebumps on his arms. This proved it—what he had seen had not just been his imagination. It couldn't have been, or else why would Arthur have imagined the same thing? Sure, Arthur had brushed it off afterwards, saying it was some trick of the light from the bad lighting system in the school, but Alfred knew better than to believe him. He had seen the unease in Arthur's eyes and knew Arthur well enough to know when he was lying. And even if Arthur had been telling the truth, if he saw this, it would convince him for sure.

Alfred had been friends with Arthur since Arthur's family moved to the States almost ten years ago. They had lived in the same neighborhood and had quickly become friends, despite how often they would argue with each other. Then, four years ago, Alfred's family moved to a different neighborhood, making it difficult for them to spend as much time together. Arthur was a year older than Alfred and so they never shared any classes at school, and over time they had grown apart, finding different interests and friend circles. They would still talk sometimes when they ran into each another between classes, and even bicker over things like old times, which Alfred found that he missed, but it wasn't often that they saw each other anymore.

Lately, Arthur seemed even more distant than usual and had an even shorter temper with Alfred. Part of Alfred wished he could go back to the way it was before he moved away, but it didn't seem like that was ever going to happen.

Alfred forced his mind back to the present and searched for similar articles, but found nothing except for one that was dated over two decades ago. There had been another death at the school—a girl had fallen down the stairwell on the same stairs that the teacher had died on. The article didn't go into further detail, but Alfred suspected it was related to the ghost he had seen. He figured that the newspapers would only note an incident like that when it resulted in death, so who knew how many more times the possessions went unreported. Still, there didn't seem to be a pattern for when they appeared. Maybe ghosts were more active at certain times, or with certain people. Whatever the trigger, it seemed that the ghosts of the student and the teacher had returned.

Alfred's stomach growled suddenly and he realized he still hadn't eaten. He had ten minutes left to grab something before his next class. He quickly logged off the computer, and hurried off to the cafeteria.

That night, Alfred didn't sleep well. He had always been scared by ghosts in horror movies, and knowing that they existed outside of fiction just made it even more frightening (no more saying "it's not real, it's not real" to calm himself). Instead of sleeping, Alfred stayed up late on his computer, researching ghosts until he had to stop because he couldn't keep from glancing over his shoulder long enough to read one sentence (researching ghosts late into the night hadn't been one of his smartest ideas).

Alfred ended up leaving his room to grab some snacks from the kitchen, then going to the living room and turning on the TV to something that would distract him from thoughts of ghosts. Still, his mind wouldn't focus on anything else and he was up hours later before he finally passed out on the couch.

At school the next morning, Alfred found out it had happened again. There had been a school concert going on the night before, and this time a couple had been possessed. Fortunately, someone else had been around and had stopped them before it got too far. And just as with Gilbert and Elizaveta, they had no memory of ever arguing with each other. It had happened at around nine-thirty, the same time that Alfred had witnessed Gilbert and Elizaveta arguing earlier that morning—the two incidents spaced twelve hours apart. It could just be coincidence, but it was all Alfred had to work with.

Alfred was reminded of something he had read online the night before about recurring ghosts. A ghost born of a traumatic event would sometimes relive its death, over and over for days or sometimes even years until it faded away. It could be a hundred years from now and the ghost might not have even noticed a day had passed since its death. The website hadn't mentioned possession, but Alfred suspected that even when no one had been around for them to possess, James and Ellen (it was less frightening to call them by their names) had probably relived their tragedy dozens, if not hundreds of times.

Then an idea came to him.

If Alfred knew the place and the relative time when the ghosts appeared, then couldn't he capture them on camera? Not only would it prove that ghosts exist, it would also demonstrate how unafraid he was to be able to get the footage himself.

It sounded like a good idea to Alfred, and he considered it some more. He would have to do it at night. During the day the ghost had been hard to see, but at night it would probably be more visible. It would be a lot creepier at that time, and harder to get in the school, but Alfred was up for the challenge.

If Alfred could overcome the fear he had, then he wouldn't have to be afraid of anything.

Alfred knew what he was going to do, but he didn't want to do it alone. If it was going to be at night, he would need someone's help, like a sidekick of some sort—someone that didn't know about his fear of ghosts (only two people were aware of his fear besides his parents). Alfred reasoned that it would be easier to be brave if he was forced to hide his fear in front of someone who didn't know about it. He hoped it would be, anyway. In any case, Alfred would find someone to go along with him.

And he knew just who to ask.

* * *

><p>"Why are we doing this, again?"<p>

"Stop whining, Arthur. You saw it too. This will prove ghosts are real!" Alfred said, unable to contain the excitement in is voice.

They were both standing outside the school entrance, their breaths condensing in the chilly night air. It was early in October, but already there were many signs that colder weather was approaching. Winter would arrive early this year, it seemed.

A cool breeze hit them, and Arthur shivered under his light jacket. He wanted to roll his eyes at Alfred's over-eagerness, but a small part of him wished he could share Alfred's enthusiasm.

"Maybe it was an act," Arthur said after a few moments. Even as he said it, Arthur honestly doubted that was the case, because although he could understand Beilschmidt doing something like that, he didn't think Elizaveta would stoop to his level.

"It was not an act," Alfred responded firmly.

"Well," Arthur sighed, taking different approach. "It's just hard to believe that ghosts exist."

"It sure seemed like you believed in them earlier," Alfred said, frowning at him. "Come on, Arthur, don't back down now!"

"But there could be some other reason for what happened, Alfred. It's foolish to simply assume it was ghosts." Arthur realized then that he was only arguing for the sake to argue. The funny thing was, he actually did believe in Alfred's theory about the ghosts haunting the school—but the next words slipped out of him from habit before he could stop himself. "This will probably just be waste of time."

It was Alfred's turn to sigh. "Then why are you doing this?" he asked, irritated, directing Arthur's question back to him.

Arthur scowled, but ignored him. He was silent for a few moments, but then finally nodded towards the school. "So, how are we getting in? The doors are going to be locked, obviously," Arthur said, casually avoiding Alfred's gaze.

Alfred brightened, then grinned at him. "Come on." He grabbed the cuff of Arthur's jacket, motioning to the right of the doors, and began to walk quickly alongside the building while pulling Arthur along with him. "There should be a way in over here." After a minute or so, he stopped in front of a window and put his face to the glass, cupping his hands around his face to get a better view inside. Arthur just stared curiously from behind him.

"This should be the right one," Alfred said, looking back to him. "Arthur, if you're still skeptical, then tonight will prove for sure whether we really saw ghosts or not."

"I guess it will," Arthur admitted. But although Arthur did perhaps want to find out if the school was haunted, that wasn't the only reason why he was here. The truth was, he had been bored with school lately, bored with spending all of his time studying, and bored with having next to no social life. He wanted more excitement, even if it meant spending time with someone like Alfred. Because even though Alfred often got on his nerves, it was at least better than the monotony of Arthur's daily routine. There was another reason, too, perhaps, but Arthur chose not to acknowledge it.

Alfred pushed at the window, and after a few shoves, it opened. The screen had been previously cut along the edges and lifted up without any trouble. "There," he said, turning to look back at Arthur. He seemed to notice the look of surprise on Arthur's face, and then grinned proudly at him. "You didn't think I'd plan this far ahead, did you?"

Arthur quickly forced his expression into indifference. "It'll take more than that to show you can think through things," he said, glancing at the open window. "Let's get inside before someone sees us."

"Okay," Alfred said. He turned back towards the window, peering inside of the dark classroom, and then hesitated. "Uh…"

"What?" Arthur asked. If Alfred backed down now, Arthur would have to strangle him.

"Can you go first?" Alfred asked him, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head a little. "Alfred. You don't mean to tell me we came all this way and now you're second-guessing things. You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

"N-no, it's not that!"

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing! Just—can you go first, please?" Alfred asked, with his lip pouting out just enough, and did he even realize he was doing that? Alfred could be really irritating, sometimes, but somehow that expression always managed to work when it was used on Arthur.

"Alright." Arthur relented. He motioned for Alfred to get out of the way, and then placed his hands on the windowsill and leaned his head through the window. It was only partway open, but it was built to not open any further than that, so he would have to squeeze through on his stomach. Arthur breathed in, and then heaved himself up, managing to get partway through—the sill now pushing against his chest and the window against his shoulders. He tried to push himself in more, but at this angle his arms weren't able to give him enough leverage, and he realized he wouldn't be able to get any further using just his own strength.

Damn.

"Could you help push me through?" Arthur asked grudgingly. He didn't want to ask for help, but there wasn't really any other option at the moment.

"Oh. Sure!" Alfred answered belatedly. Arthur felt hands hesitantly grasp just below his knees, and felt his face heat up as he realized what sort of view Alfred had of him right now, with his legs and rear dangling out of the window.

Alfred pushed him and Arthur slid a little more through. "Just a bit more," Arthur instructed him, glad that he was almost inside. Alfred pushed again, but with a little too much strength this time and Arthur realized that he didn't have anything to hold onto besides air. He stumbled into the classroom, hitting his shoulder and head against the nearest desk, and cursed loudly.

"Sorry!" He heard Alfred say from outside.

"Git," Arthur muttered, feeling at his head, but it seemed alright. His shoulder was probably going to bruise though. He stood up and brushed off his clothing.

"Um. Okay, I'm coming in now," Alfred announced. He stuck his head through the window, but Arthur pushed it back out before Alfred could get any further. "Hey!" Alfred protested.

"Wait." Arthur told him. "Go back to the entrance and I'll let you in through there. You're too big to fit through the window."

"What, are you saying I'm fat?" Alfred accused him.

Arthur suddenly remembered that particular insecurity of his. That didn't stop Arthur from taking it further, though.

"Yes," he stated flatly, giving Alfred a blank stare.

"No I'm not! You're just really small to be able to fit through there!"

"Either way, I'll meet you at the entrance, alright?" Arthur said, while taking a small flashlight out from his jacket pocket and clicking it on.

Alfred eyed the window, as if debating something, but then nodded. "Fine. Be careful." And then he was gone, leaving Arthur alone in the dark school building.

Arthur made sure the screen was fit back in place so it didn't look like anyone had broken in, and then headed for the door on the other side of the classroom. As Arthur made his way across the room, he shone the flashlight around him, trying not to imagine things lurking in the dark. It would do him no good to scare himself unnecessarily.

He reached the door, making sure it was unlocked in case they needed to get back in, and then entered the hallway.

* * *

><p>The hallway was more well-lit than the classroom, but the open area made Arthur feel somewhat anxious, as if at any moment some figure would come up from behind him. He shook his head, forcing the irrational thought away (after a quick glance over his shoulder), and then set off towards the entrance of the school.<p>

It was just a boring old school at night, Arthur reassured himself. He gradually relaxed as he made his way down the quiet hall. It was almost peaceful how silent the school was—the only sound being the low hum of the few lights always left on.

_I feel completely alone here_, he thought. Instead of frightening him, Arthur found that the thought was comforting. After all, it would be decidedly more creepy if it felt like some unknown entity was observing him from the shadows. But the hallway only felt empty. Dark and eerie, but empty. Besides, Arthur knew that any ghosts lurking about would not be in this particular hallway; they would be at the other end of the school—where he and Alfred had seen, or thought they had seen, a ghost possess Gilbert and Elizaveta.

It didn't take long for Arthur to reach the entrance. It was darker there than the hallway had been, so he clicked the flashlight on once more (having turned it off in the hallway). The small fear he had that Alfred wouldn't be there disappeared when he saw the familiar stray tuft of hair through one of the door windows. Alfred waved at him as Arthur reached the door and unlocked it, and then finally opened it to let him in.

The door clicked shut quietly behind Alfred once he was inside. Though Arthur didn't admit it, he was very relieved to be with Alfred again.

"Did you see anything?" Alfred asked, and Arthur assumed he meant if he had seen anything supernatural.

"I saw walls, lockers, classrooms. Oh, and a drinking fountain. It was terrifying," Arthur replied. He shone the flashlight briefly over Alfred as he spoke, and then turned to point the beam of light down the hallway they were headed to.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Arthur. I bet you were scared as hell to have to be in here all alone."

"Not really. Although—" Arthur stopped midsentence, an idea suddenly coming to him. He smirked, and then lowered his voice to just above a whisper, shining the flashlight beneath his face so his features were both shadowed and illuminated. "Will you be?" he asked, grinning, and turned the flashlight off.

Alfred yelped in fright and Arthur had to cover his mouth to hide his snicker. He was too cruel, really, but Arthur couldn't help himself when he knew it made Alfred react that much. Before he could take the joke further and hide somewhere, though, Arthur felt Alfred stumble into him and grip onto his arm painfully.

"Ouch! That hurts, you idiot!" Arthur turned the flashlight back on and hit Alfred's arm with it.

"God, Arthur," Alfred said, ignoring him, panic in his voice. "That wasn't funny!"

"It was only a joke."

"Well don't do it again!"

Arthur looked at Alfred, seeing the fear in his eyes, and felt a sudden pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to scare him this badly. Well, a little bit, maybe—but still.

"Alright, alright," Arthur sighed, lifting his hands up in defeat. "No more pranks from me." At that, he saw Alfred relax.

"You better mean it."

"I do."

"Good." Alfred paused. "Thanks."

Arthur shifted awkwardly. "You're still holding my arm."

"Oh. Sorry." Alfred reluctantly let go, but stayed close to Arthur.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked back towards the hallway. "Let's get on with it, then."

"Right," Alfred agreed, his voice seeming louder than usual in the quiet building.

They walked for a while, their mood more serious than it had been before. The staircase they were headed to was on the other side of the school, so it gave them plenty of time for their imaginations to get the better of them and reinforce their worries about the dark and likely haunted building.

Alfred's shoulder kept bumping into Arthur's, as if he was afraid of straying too far from him and getting separated. Arthur wondered if Alfred would have kept holding his arm if he hadn't brought it up. As their shoulders brushed again, Arthur thought that he wouldn't mind if Alfred held onto him. He quickly pushed the thought away though, wondering where the hell it had come from, and told himself it was probably just because he was nervous about being here. If he were to be honest, though, it wasn't surprising that he'd thought that—he'd had similar thoughts about Alfred before. He just always pushed them away.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked when it had been silent for some time.

"Yeah?" Alfred had been close to brushing Arthur's shoulder again, but stepped away as if Arthur's words had made him aware of it.

"Aren't you worried that the ghosts might possess us?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nah, they can't if we stay far enough away from the area where it happened. We'll get some footage and then get the hell out of here," Alfred answered, speaking as if he did this sort of thing all the time. He grinned at Arthur. "But if we did get possessed, I'm sure you'd be the girl. So you better be careful."

Arthur glared at him, but Alfred only laughed—Arthur kindly in return shoving him with his elbow. But Arthur noticed that Alfred's laugh wasn't the normal obnoxious one—it sounded nervous more than anything. Alfred's uneasiness was also starting to affect Arthur. He knew that if they ended up going home without any footage of the ghosts, although they might be disappointed, they would both be very relieved. Even if Alfred would never admit it.

Soon they arrived at the correct staircase, making sure to keep their distance from where the possessions had occurred. Alfred took out his digital camera and fiddled with the settings to suit it better for the dark building. He set the camera on top of a convenient ledge jutting out from the wall and then faced it towards the stairs.

"It should be right about… there," Alfred said, zooming in the camera a bit.

Arthur leaned over his shoulder to look where it was aimed. "Maybe a bit to the left," he suggested. Alfred adjusted it. "That looks good."

"Okay. Now we wait." Alfred straitened and leaned against the wall, leaving the camera where it sat, but where he could still look through it if he wanted. Arthur followed suit, leaning on the wall beside him.

Arthur hadn't thought about the waiting part. He looked at his watch. It was nearly an hour before the time of the teacher's death. They would probably stay until they grew too bored or heard a strange sound that sent them running. He rested his head against the brick behind him and shone the flashlight around the hall, already beginning to feel the boredom outweigh any fears he had.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Time passed and boredom grew, at least for Arthur. He had turned the flashlight off again, and was surprised when Alfred didn't protest. There was a light on in the hallway behind them, but the area where the possessions had occurred was in near darkness. The camera was still able to pick up enough light, though.<p>

Alfred had been mostly quiet, and was staring intently at the camera screen. His body was tense as if something would happen at any moment.

Arthur sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that night. He looked at his watch—just past ten—and finally decided to voice his thoughts on leaving.

"Alright, I think we've waited long en—"

"Wait!" Alfred interrupted, jumping forward and looking closely through the camera. "Did you see that?"

"What?" Arthur asked, feeling a rush of adrenalin, but told himself that knowing Alfred, it was probably nothing.

"Just now, from the left. I saw something move!"

Arthur leaned his head next to Alfred's in order to peer at the screen, but didn't notice anything strange, let alone paranormal. "Was it small and roundish?" he asked.

"I think so, yeah," Alfred said.

Arthur stared a bit longer, and then straightened back up. "It was probably just a mote of dust."

"I don't know, it looked pretty weird..." Alfred frowned, but didn't sound as confident anymore. He stared for another minute before he spoke again. "Maybe you're right," he said, with less enthusiasm.

Arthur waited for a moment and then laid a hand briefly on Alfred's shoulder, who was still looking through the camera. "Come on, let's get out of here. We can wait a bit longer if you want, but I doubt that we're going to see anything if we haven't yet."

Alfred didn't answer at first, but then slowly nodded. "Yeah, okay. Just a few more minutes and then we can…" he trailed off.

And this time, Arthur saw it too, something that was in no way just a particle of floating dust. It was much bigger than that. It moved with purpose, smoky and shadowed and almost indistinguishable from the dark hallway, but definitely there, and about the height that a human would be.

"Holy shit. Holy fucking shit," Alfred said, motionless, eyes wide.

They were both frozen in place, unable to tear their gaze away from the camera screen. Not a moment later, a second figure appeared, just as hazy and indistinct and _real_as the other.

Arthur managed to shake himself out of his shock first, fighting the overwhelming urge to run away.

"Alfred! Press the record button!"

"Oh, right!" Alfred's hands were shaking, and he nearly knocked the camera of the ledge before he managed to turn it on, but now the camera was facing the wrong way. He frantically moved it back in place, taking longer than he probably would have in a calmer state of mind.

While Alfred put the camera back in place, Arthur looked up towards the area where the ghosts should be, but couldn't see anything in the darkness. Apparently, it was too dark to be able to see the ghosts without looking through the camera—strange, since one would think that ghosts would be easier to spot in a darker setting.

When Alfred finally got the camera readjusted, his eyes widened even further than before.

"Arthur… I think one's moving toward us," Alfred managed to say.

Arthur could see it, too. One of the shapes was definitely moving closer to them, and it wasn't slowing down. Arthur acted without thinking, grabbing Alfred's arm and pulling him away, knocking the camera to the ground in the process.

"Let's get out of here!" he yelled. Sure, it was great to have captured actual ghosts on film and all, but Arthur wasn't going to let himself or Alfred die anytime soon. So he ran, and pulled Alfred with him, but he didn't get far before Alfred slowed and came to a stop.

"B-but wait!" Alfred said, in panicked realization. "The camera's still back there! We can't just leave it!"

"We can get it tomorrow! Come on!" Arthur tugged at his arm, but Alfred didn't budge.

"No, I can't risk it being destroyed," Alfred said, stepping away from Arthur, determination apparent in his voice. Arthur realized then that he wasn't going to be able to change Alfred's mind now, and cursed under his breath in frustration. _Damn that bloody hero complex of his._Instead of convincing Arthur to let him go back, it just angered Arthur even more.

But Alfred was already rushing back to get the camera, and so Arthur had no choice but to follow after him. Being faster, Arthur reached Alfred only a moment later, and using his momentum, shoved Alfred firmly against the wall. Alfred winced as his head smacked unintentionally against the hard brick behind him. He looked surprised, and then glared at Arthur, but Arthur didn't care at the moment.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Arthur shouted.

"Fuck off, Arthur." Alfred continued to glare at him, but didn't try to push Arthur away.

"Are you _mad_? It's too dangerous to go back there!" Arthur yelled, ignoring the sting of Alfred's words.

"But Arthur, I have to!"

"_Why?_"

"I just do! I have to prove…" Alfred trailed off, avoiding Arthur's stare. The camera wasn't too far away from them, and Alfred looked towards it, biting at his lip.

"Have to prove what?" Arthur demanded.

Alfred tore his eyes from the camera, taking a deep breath before lifting his gaze to Arthur. "That I'm not afraid!"

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion, but then relaxed in understanding. "Idiot," he chided, but didn't finish whatever he was going to say next. He stared at Alfred, holding his gaze, and then lifted a hand from Alfred's shoulder to cup his face, gently stroking a thumb across his cheek. Arthur realized he couldn't look away from Alfred, and horror settled in his stomach as the next words left his lips, because he knew then that he was no longer the one in control of his body or speech.

"Don't you know that I love you?" As the words left Arthur so did the rest of his consciousness, and all that remained was a foreign entity clinging to the living world, a spirit having stayed decades past its welcome.

"I'm sorry," Alfred replied. A pained, almost sorrowful look was written on his features. It wasn't Alfred speaking anymore. "I wish there was another way."

"But there is! You don't have to leave me, Ellen! Who cares what the others think? Let's just leave them instead! Go someplace where no one will care about us being together."

"But we can't! We can never have a life like that, James. Please just understand," Alfred said, removing Arthur's hand from his face. "I just want you to have a normal life."

"I don't care about a normal life! You're the only thing I give a damn about!"

Alfred closed his eyes and he breathed out a shaky breath before opening them again. An unexpected softness was in them, and he reached his arm out, briefly touching Arthur's cheek. "I know. But it's over. It has to be." He dropped his hand and then broke away from Arthur and started to walk away.

Arthur watched him for a moment, blinking back angry tears before he clenched his hands and followed after Alfred. "Don't you dare leave yet!" Arthur caught up to him and roughly grabbed his arm to stop him. "You don't care about me anymore, is that it?"

Alfred turned quickly towards him. "It's not because I don't care!" His voice sounded strained, as if he was trying to hold back tears.

"Then say you don't love me! Say it!" Arthur shook him.

"Fine, will that make it easier?" Alfred's expression darkened and he only faltered for a second. "I don't. I don't love you." Blue eyes glared with an intensity they had never shown before. "Now let me go!"

"No!" Arthur cried. "It doesn't make any sense! What we had was love, you know it! Love should be forever! "

Alfred was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he spoke, shaking his head slightly. "Nothing is forever."

Arthur's hands were shaking. He glared at Alfred as he tightened his grip on his arms. "You're wrong!"

Alfred winced in discomfort, and then began to struggle once more against Arthur's grip. "Let go of me, James!"

Arthur struggled to keep his hold on him as Alfred tried to break away—

_—he held onto her, trying desperately to find the words that would stop her from leaving him._

_He didn't want to let it end like this. Not here, not now._

_He pleaded silently for her to change her mind, to take back all she had said and then he would too and they would stay together and be happy like before—_

The next thing he knew, Alfred was at the bottom of the stairs, motionless. Arthur's eyes widened, and he rushed down the stairs to Alfred's body, kneeling beside him and sliding a shaking hand under his head.

"Oh God. Please wake up, Ellen. Please…" Arthur begged, but Alfred did not stir. He pulled Alfred into his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks as he laid his chin over Alfred's head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this…" He closed his eyes, touching his hand to Alfred's face as he cradled him. It had all happened so fast, but now time seemed to slow and lengthen, until it was just this one lasting moment—Alfred motionless in his arms—like some surreal, unending dream. Arthur leaned down and kissed Alfred's forehead, his lips, in one last meager hope that he would wake, but Alfred did not respond to him. Placing his forehead over Alfred's, he breathed in shaky breaths, and wondered if anyone could ever really say goodbye to the people they loved.

_She'll never be able to love me again._

Arthur choked, and lifted his head away from Alfred. A heavy dread settled in him, and he knew it would never leave him.

_He couldn't be here—be anywhere—any longer. Nothing would ever be right again, because of him. He had to—_

Alfred stirred in his arms and groaned. Arthur stared, frozen, as Alfred blinked open his eyes.

"E-ellen?" It couldn't be.

_This wasn't how it had happened. Not while he had been alive. Not ever since that night._

Alfred focused his eyes on Arthur, his expression unreadable. He moved to sit up, and Arthur moved an arm to Alfred's back, stabling him. Alfred didn't push him away, and Arthur felt his hope rise up before guilt took over once again.

"I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated to him. "I never meant for it to happen like this. I never…"

Alfred smiled, his smile sincere despite all that had happened, but there was something bittersweet in it as well. Ellen still hadn't left Alfred, nor James Arthur.

"I'm the one who should be sorry."

Arthur stared at Alfred in shock, and then a pained expression fell across his face. "But I killed you…" He felt the anguish in him rise up again from the memory.

_She had died, before. She always died, every time. It was his punishment._

"It was an accident."

Arthur's eyes widened, and something shifted inside him. "No," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

_She couldn't be forgiving him, not now. How could she even consider it?_

"How could I have done this to you? I-it's my fault, I—" Arthur sputtered, nearing tears again, but Alfred shushed him, shifting closer to Arthur and gently touching a hand to his face.

"I'm the one to blame," Alfred said, never taking his eyes from Arthur. He spoke as if he had been meaning to say the words for a long time. "You thought I stopped loving you, but I never did." Alfred let his thumb wipe away at Arthur's stray tears, and then leaned his forehead against Arthur's. "It's alright now." The words were gentle, unbiting. "No more tears."

And before Arthur could reply Alfred's lips were on Arthur's, and Arthur was kissing back—kissing the one he hadn't been able to say sorry to for fifty years, the one he had never been able to forgive himself for killing. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him closer, and Arthur slid an arm around Alfred's waist, moving his other hand to cup Alfred's face.

_She had forgiven him. After all that had happened—in spite of it all—she had forgiven him._

_He could never completely let go of his guilt, but he felt some weight had been lifted off of him. It was enough. He could leave now, he knew, for good this time. She had waited for him—all these years, waiting for him to see—and now she too could rest._

James felt himself begin to fade. He smiled, Arthur's lips turning up with his, and soon he was gone, and so was Ellen, and all that remained were Arthur and Alfred.

* * *

><p>Arthur became aware of eager lips on his, and let out a soft moan at the feeling. His hand tightened around a soft, but fit waist as he responded willingly to the kiss. Too lost in the moment to think of why he was doing this, Arthur simply let himself enjoy the feeling of someone else's lips moving against his. He heard a moan from the other person<em>—<em>one that sounded distinctly like Alfred's. It felt like some fantasy come true, and Arthur became more eager, letting his tongue run over Alfred's bottom lip and then enter his mouth, stroking Alfred's tongue as it met his and then exploring his mouth with heated movements, receiving only more approving sounds from Alfred.

_Alfred._

They both seemed to realize it at the same time and stilled their movements. Arthur was afraid to open his eyes, but slowly he forced them open, only to meet a pair of half-lidded blues.

Arthur broke away, blushing at the noticeable sound their lips made, embarrassment heating his already flushed face. He became aware that they were both sitting at the bottom of the stairs, with Alfred leaning against the wall and Arthur straddling him. Arthur cursed and quickly backed away from Alfred.

"S-sorry," Arthur stuttered after Alfred didn't say anything. "I don't know why I did that."

"It's, uh… it's okay. I mean," Alfred said, blushing in return. "I don't remember why either." Alfred shifted and then winced as he sat up further.

Arthur's eyes widened in sudden comprehension.

"Oh my God—" Arthur moved close to Alfred again, forgetting his earlier embarrassment as he realized what must have happened. "Alfred, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Arthur stared at him incredulously. "But you just fell down the bloody stairwell!"

Alfred just shrugged and laughed a little, wincing slightly. "So we were possessed, then, I take it."

Arthur didn't see why he thought it was funny. "You could have died! Why I ever agreed to do this…"

"But I didn't!" Alfred said, more serious now. He grasped Arthur's forearm and looked at him earnestly. "Arthur, I think we saved them. That's why we were, you know… when they left us."

Arthur was silent as he thought it over. It made sense. One moment he's chasing after Alfred and then the next he's snogging him at the bottom of the stairs. Alfred had clearly fallen, but fortunately, his fall had not been fatal like the teacher's had. Maybe that had given her the chance to make things right with James.

Arthur suddenly remembered what Alfred had told him right before they'd been possessed.

"Alfred, why did you want to do this in the first place?"

"I already told you. So we could get some footage of some ghosts."

"No, not that. The real reason. What were you afraid of?"

"I…"

"Alfred…" He warned, not willing to let Alfred to avoid the subject.

"I wanted to prove that I wasn't afraid of ghosts."

Arthur blinked. "Why? I've never heard anyone make fun of you for that reason."

"No one knows besides my brother and Kiku," Alfred said, not looking at Arthur. "I guess I just wanted to prove it to myself. Overcome it. If that didn't work… then at least getting the footage would prove ghosts are real so my fear wouldn't be irrational."

Arthur had expected it to be something like that. Alfred had always been afraid of appearing weak. From Alfred's point of view, if he was able to get footage of actual ghosts, it would show everyone how unafraid he was, even if it wasn't true.

What surprised him the most was that Alfred had been able to hide his fear from Arthur all this time—they had watched scary movies together in the past, some involving ghosts. But now that he thought about it, Alfred had always seemed a bit off during those times, and Arthur remembered hearing something fake in Alfred's laughter when he joked about the movie or pointed out errors in the plot. He had been even more critical than Arthur about those movies—now it made sense why.

When Arthur didn't respond right away, Alfred went on. "Yeah, I know. It's a stupid reason. And it didn't even work. Ghosts still scare the shit out of me."

At another time, Arthur might have teased him about such fears. He didn't see the point of it now.

"It's alright, Alfred. You were…very brave, considering."

"Really?" Alfred brightened. "Thanks," he added, smiling at Arthur.

Arthur felt awkward giving compliments in general and right now was no exception, but he nodded his head anyway and returned the smile.

Alfred scratched his neck and looked away. "Arthur…" he began.

Arthur looked at him expectantly. "What is it?" he asked, trying not to sound hopeful. The way Alfred had said his name made Arthur's pulse quicken with nervousness and something else. What if Alfred… no, better not to hope. Why would he return Arthur's feelings, after the way Arthur had been treating him lately? Still, he waited for Alfred to answer.

"Oh, where did my glasses go?" Alfred asked instead of finishing what he was going to say. He glanced around the stairs while Arthur mentally berated himself for ever thinking Alfred would say anything else. It was Alfred, after all.

Arthur turned and spotted Alfred's glasses a few steps above. "Ah, they're right here," he said, reaching for them. He picked them up, looking to see if they were damaged before holding them out to Alfred.

Alfred took his glasses, but seemed suddenly lost in thought. "It's so weird," he said after a while, glasses still in his hands.

"What is?"

"That she forgave him. I mean she must have, right? Ellen or whatever her name was. He killed her, but she still forgave him."

Arthur thought for a minute about Alfred's words. "I guess love makes people do weird things. Even in the afterlife."

"Yeah, but…" Alfred frowned, still uncertain.

Arthur sighed, but then smiled a little. It was funny to think that Alfred could find the concept of ghosts so easy to accept, but not the concept of forgiveness.

"Does it matter?" Arthur asked, still smiling at him.

"I guess not," Alfred admitted, looking towards the stairs above them. Arthur noticed Alfred's cheeks had tinged before he looked away, and wondered briefly why he was blushing.

Alfred finally seemed to remember his glasses and turned back, putting them on, and then shifted his legs in order to sit up straighter. He winced in pain. "Shit," he cursed. He moved his leg again only to wince once more. "I think my ankle might be sprained…"

Arthur moved to look at his ankle, lifting up the bottom of his jeans. The skin looked red and was starting to swell. He sighed and looked back to Alfred. "We should get you out of here."

"Where to?"

"Your parents?" Arthur suggested. Alfred's place was the closest to the school. "We'll have to think of some excuse for what happened, though."

Alfred nodded. "Yeah. Sure, that'll work. Can you help me up?"

"Of course." Arthur carefully helped him up, placing an arm around Alfred's back while Alfred placed his around Arthur's shoulder for balance, and then they made their way up the staircase, Alfred using Arthur for support.

Arthur was a little wary to return to the next floor, and he knew Alfred was even more so, but when they got there, no ghosts possessed them, and they were able to move safely down the hallway.

They reached where the camera had fallen earlier and Arthur broke away briefly from Alfred to retrieve it. It had turned off somehow, perhaps when it had fallen, but it wouldn't turn back on no matter how Arthur tried. They would have to try to get it working later, if it worked at all. Maybe that was one thing horror movies got right. He handed the camera to Alfred and placed his arm around him again, then resumed walking. Their progress was slow and they made conversation in the meantime to distract Alfred from his ankle.

"So judging from your state, I guess _you_were the girl."

"Heh. Well your cruel personality and short temper probably suited him more."

"Oh, shut it."

"See?"

Arthur scoffed, but said no more on the matter, a small grin tugging at his lips. He felt happier than he had in a long time.

And though Arthur knew he shouldn't have ever agreed to do this with Alfred, he didn't regret it.

* * *

><p>Even though Alfred's house was nearby, they were little more than halfway there when Alfred had to take a short break to rest his ankle.<p>

There were no benches in sight, so Arthur helped Alfred sit down under a street lamp on the curb of the sidewalk, and then moved to sit next him, waiting for Alfred to catch his breath so they could get going again. The night had gotten cooler since they had been inside, and Arthur exhaled, watching his breath condense under the light like smoke.

Alfred sighed tiredly and placed his palms on the cement behind him, leaning back a little. Arthur watched him, still concerned. He thought a moment, and then huddled closer to Alfred. Alfred looked at him but didn't protest. Instead he leaned back forward, removing his hands form the cold pavement and simultaneously moving closer to Arthur for warmth.

"Can I try something?" Alfred asked suddenly, seeming to have made up his mind on something. His voice was unnaturally quiet, and his eyes were looking away from Arthur, but then they flickered to him unsurely. It seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he didn't, and began to fidget when Arthur didn't immediately respond.

Arthur knew in an instant what Alfred was asking to do. He felt his own pulse quicken at the thought of what they could be doing if he agreed to it. A cool breeze hit them and he huddled even closer to Alfred.

"Try what?"

"Um. Well, you know before—earlier, when we—uh," Alfred struggled to say the words that he wanted.

"You want to…" Arthur didn't finish his sentence, but looked at Alfred meaningfully. Blue eyes flickered to his, uncertain, but hopeful.

"Y—yeah."

Before he could make some sarcastic retort, or before Alfred could laugh it off as some joke, Arthur leaned forward and kissed Alfred for the second time that night—only this time with entirely his own intention. Alfred's eyes widened, probably not expecting Arthur to beat him to it, but then he relaxed into the kiss.

Arthur slowly kissed him, choosing not to deepen the kiss as he had before when they had been lost in the moment. It seemed to be what Alfred wanted, and he felt Alfred's hand grasp onto his arm as he responded to the kiss. Arthur pressed closer to him and he had to resist the urge to go further, reminding himself that Alfred was injured and it was late and cold outside.

Arthur soon broke away, though Alfred seemed hesitant to do so. He kept his face close to Alfred's, feeling Alfred's breath on his skin, and stayed there like that for a few moments.

Alfred had a stupid grin on his face and Arthur realized that he was smiling too, and quickly tried to suppress it, but only half managed to do so. He forced himself to stand up, feeling the chill in the air now that he wasn't near Alfred, and then moved to help Alfred stand so they could continue on to Alfred's house. He guided Alfred's arm over his shoulder and slipped his own arm around the middle of Alfred's back to steady him like before. They set off again.

Alfred kept glancing to Arthur, but Arthur kept his gaze pointedly away. He could still feel a firm blush on his cheeks.

They walked in silence for some time, Arthur wanting to say something but not knowing what. The breeze returned again and Arthur shivered, glad he was close to Alfred for warmth. Alfred's house was only a block away now.

"So, can we do that again sometime?" Alfred asked abruptly, almost shyly. "I mean the kissing—not the possession by tormented ghosts and the almost getting killed thing," he clarified.

Arthur's face heated, and he cleared his throat before finally answering. "I—I wouldn't be against it." Arthur turned so he could see Alfred's reaction, and saw a happy grin break out across Alfred's face. It made Arthur smile despite himself, and then he finally realized why Alfred had been blushing before. He'd have to make sure to smile around Alfred more often.

Alfred tightened his hold on Arthur's shoulder and looked forward again.

"Awesome," he said, still smiling.

Arthur hesitated, then moved his hand up to the one hanging from his shoulder. He clasped his hand with Alfred's, but didn't say anything more to him.

He didn't need to.

_End._

* * *

><p><em>(Note: Some of the dialogue during the ghost possession scene is takenparaphrased from the Buffy episode)_


End file.
